Seasons to Cycles
by ncfan
Summary: Love in four seasons... Four seasonal pairing drabbles, multiple pairings.
1. HitsuHina: Spring's Dawn

**Title**: Spring's Dawn**  
Characters/Pairing**: HitsuHina**  
Summary**: "Why do you have your arms behind your back, Hitsugaya-kun?"**  
Author's Note**: I know this isn't terribly fluffy, but none of them will be, and I don't think it's in Hitsugaya's nature to be gushy.**  
Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach.

* * *

Personally, Hinamori isn't sure exactly what the rather uncomfortable, slightly stretched look on Hitsugaya's face means when he walks into her office. It's almost like he's been holding it in one attitude for a very long time, and has suddenly decided to wear his face a different way; that makes no sense, since Hitsugaya looks just as grumpy as he ever has.

And, of course, she also has no idea why he's holding his arms behind his back. Hitsugaya's never held his arms like that before…

"Good afternoon, Hitsugaya-kun!" Hinamori greets him cheerfully, smiling from behind her desk. As usual, she doesn't address him by the proper honorific and, for once, Hitsugaya doesn't really seem to mind, managing a small quirk of a smile that somehow brings to mind Hinamori's memories of him as a small child.

"Hi, Hinamori," Hitsugaya mutters awkwardly, a slight pink tinge entering his cheeks. He still keeps his hands fixed firmly behind his back.

Curious, Hinamori stands, the coal black linen of her hakama swishing and puckering at her ankles as she draws to her feet, slipping out from behind her desk. She shoots a slightly wistful glance outside the window—it's a beautiful spring afternoon, glorious and resplendent with the sweet perfume of flowers blanketing the air, and she's trapped inside by the paperwork. _Evil monsters should be slain_, Hinamori decides. _Maybe I can get Hitsugaya-kun to help me with that sometime._

_But for now…_

"Hitsugaya-kun, why do you have your arms behind your back?" Hinamori asks innocently, smiling a little bit; Hitsugaya certainly smells like he's been outside—Hinamori knows he doesn't particularly like this time of year since the pollen makes him sneeze, but the smell of the flowers has managed to cling to him.

As Hinamori tries to walk around him to answer her own question, Hitsugaya rotates on the spot, expression growing decidedly shifty. "No reason," he responds evasively, in the sort of tone that makes Hinamori sure he's lying.

"Then why won't you let me walk around you?" Now, the flavor of triumph enters Hinamori's voice; she knows she has him caught.

The tinge of color in Hitsugaya's cheek is now approaching red. "I just," Hitsugaya mumbles awkwardly, "I just… wanted to give you these."

His face is defensive to hide his embarrassment, as Hitsugaya draws his arms out from behind his back, to reveal a spray of may blossoms, brandishing them like a weapon.

To say Hinamori is elated at this gift would be an understatement. Her reaction makes Hitsugaya decided that it was—almost—worth the embarrassment of having to walk all the way through the Fifth division with a bunch of flowers in his hands.


	2. IshiHime: Summer's Rain

**Title**: Summer's Rain**  
Characters/Pairing**: IshiHime**  
Summary**: The movie will be lousy, but at least the company will be good.**  
Author's Note**: Again, I know, not fluffy, but I don't do fluff.**  
Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach.

* * *

When Orihime shows up at his apartment completely out of the blue one quiet Friday evening, Ishida wonders if she's truly incapable of leaving him in peace or if he should thank whatever kind higher power actually exists that she _won't_ leave him alone in peace.

He can't deny that he's happy to see her. However, that doesn't mean Ishida will readily agree to what she's asking.

"Oh come on! Have you ever actually been inside that movie theater?"

Ishida scrapes the stone cold remains of his food—he was eating when Orihime knocked on the door—into the trash can and methodically goes over the process of washing the plate, even while he's talking to her. "No, I haven't," Ishida responds, trying not to raise his voice, though the bite of annoyance is there plain as day. "But I've got a pretty good idea of what it looks like inside: greasy, untidy, and with carpet that shouldn't be nearly as sticky and grimy as it is. You turn the lights on and it's a horror show."

Orihime pulls a face and mock glares at him. "Do you honestly think I'd go in there if it were like that? Really, you've got it all wrong, Ishida-kun."

Ishida doesn't really have much to say to this, placing the plate on the dish rack, so Orihime takes the opportunity to go to work again. "Please? No one else will agree to come."

"So I'm the last resort?" Ishida snorts, though he can feel his resolve starting to crumble at the pleading note in her voice.

"What? No, of course not!" The sheer level of indignation in her voice gives him some reassurance. "I tried asking the others; I thought we could all go together. But they all had plans."

Ishida winces mentally when he realizes that he's giving way in earnest. _Good grief, am I really that much of a pushover?_ He's just discovered what Orihime has known for months. "What movie?" he asks reluctantly, face tingeing red just a little bit when he sees her face light up.

Orihime tells him, and Ishida promptly balks again.

"Chick flick," he says flatly, now washing the fork and knife in the sink, trying to keep the water from splashing on his shirt.

She gasps, scandalized in such a way as to be slightly overdone. "It's not a chick flick. It's a beautiful love story about—"

"Chick flick," Ishida states again stubbornly, deciding that cutting Orihime off is the only way to keep her waxing eloquent and embarrassing herself.

"I don't want to go alone." Orihime has that big, hopeful smile on her face, the sort that can make any boy's knees melt, and, unfortunately (or maybe not so unfortunately), Ishida is no exception. "It's no fun by myself."

Ishida squeezes his eyes shut and decides that Orihime must be aware of how effective her smile is as a weapon; otherwise she wouldn't be able to use it to such devastating effect. "Inoue-san, it's raining," he offers up weakly as a last excuse not to go.

It is raining. It had just started to rain when Ishida heard the knock on his door and Orihime's hair was slightly damp when she burst inside, glistening with water droplets.

Orihime shrugs as though this is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "Bring an umbrella," she supplies innocently.

There's nothing for it. Ishida has no more excuses, and honestly, he's not sure he wouldn't go now even if he still had one. He nods in defeat. "Fine. Let me get my umbrella out of the closet."

Her face lights up again and it's all Ishida can do not to smile foolishly. "Great."

As Ishida searches through the closet for his battered umbrella, he muses over his fate. The movie, he's sure, will be lousy. But, at least, the company will be decent.

And he can't say he's complaining if it gives him a chance to be (somewhat) alone for a few hours with Inoue-san.


	3. GinRan: Autumn's Rose

**Title**: Autumn's Rose**  
Characters/Pairing**: GinRan**  
Summary**: She wasn't always alone.**  
Author's Note**: The beginning of the angst. I figured angst would be appropriate for autumn.**  
Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach.

* * *

The world seems to begin to die around this time of year. The last roses are scattering petals darkened and slightly shriveled around the stone walkways with the fluttering leaves, between stone enclosures raised from the ground, holding the gnarled bushes devoid of flowers and leaves now, to stretch out their branches like beckoning arms.

Rangiku winces a little bit as she plucks at her hair to keep it from whipping around her face like a golden flag caught in the wind. There's a bite in the suddenly chill air that wasn't there the day before; yesterday still seemed like summer to her.

She smirks a little bit. _It looks like I've managed to find that day I was always looking for—the day when summer turns to autumn._

Of course, the victory is hollow, for there was another she wanted to share this discovery with.

There was another she had discussed this matter with.

Pulling the haori over her yukata closer over her body, Rangiku casts her eyes over the large communal garden. There are a few others there—always in pairs, it is brought to her attention with pain. A man and a woman, always in pairs.

Sweeping her haori and skirt with one hand, Rangiku sits on a low stone wall, and feels the gnarled branch of a rose bush dig into her back, reminding her that she's alone. She watches as a few of the petals, bled to deep, deep red, almost black, scatter past her in the breeze.

In days past, she didn't come here alone.

But those days are done.


	4. ByaHisa: Winter's Night

**Title**: Winter's Night**  
Characters/Pairing**: ByaHisa**  
Summary**: This is how he'll always remember her.**  
Author's Note**: The final chapter. For anyone who's been following, I hope you've enjoyed it, and just so you know (though I'm sure you already know), feedback is appreciated.**  
Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach.

* * *

Byakuya is surprised to learn that Hisana likes winter, that she likes the snow and the cold. She's always felt the cold more quickly and more keenly than others perhaps because of her small size and fragile health. Byakuya had assumed that she would prefer the warmer seasons of the year.

However, his wife has always been more than capable of finding ways to surprise and astound him. This is no different.

Hushed and silent, they walk quietly and in silence out into the snowy garden. It is the middle of the night, just a little after midnight in fact—Hisana wanted a bit of privacy when she went out to look at the snow. The full moon provides more than enough light for them to see.

Byakuya falls back, and stands under the shelter of the veranda, while Hisana ventures out further. He stands, leaning against a wooden pillar, and watches her. Just… watches her.

Hisana is securely wrapped in several layers of royal purple silk and wool for safety, but her body still looks lithe and slender to his view, still with a girlish slimness despite having three layers of clothing piled on top.

Hisana tilts her chin towards the sky, smiling the sort of smile, full of simple pleasure and unstinting happiness, that Byakuya doesn't think he's ever seen on her face before. Tiny snowflakes catch in her hair like a gauzy lace veil or scintillating diamonds, a thousand facets sparkling back at him like little stars.

Pale skin illuminated and turned silver by the full moon she stands directly under, Byakuya doesn't think Hisana has ever looked more beautiful than she does now, especially not with that singular smile on her face. He's content to just watch her, drink in the sight of her.

This is how Byakuya will always remember Hisana later: lightly dusted with snow, clothed in purple, face so full of a smile that's happy and not sad that she barely seems like the slightly melancholy woman he knows.

Then, she starts to cough.

And the happy illusion shatters.


End file.
